Her Name is Charlie
by johannah
Summary: Phoebe has yet to tell her sisters something she's been wanting to share since she returned from New York. Please R&R. Reviews VERY MUCH appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

**Her Name is Charlie**

Phoebe POV. AU. Set anywhere between the first three seasons with Prue.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the right to any Charmed character, location, etc. mentioned in this story. The characters, locations, etc. that does not belong to Charmed/Aaron Spelling, etc...belong to me. (Full disclaimer in my profile)

_A/N: Yea, I guess I'm back again..lol… My second attempt at a fic. I'm not sure how long this one will be or what direction this story will go. This is another situation I've thought about. Though I had it pictured a little differently than I'm writing it, it's somewhat similar. Maybe it will work out how I pictured it. If not, maybe I'll write a different fic with a similar concept. I'm not sure yet. Hopefully, you all will like it. _

_This fic is more of a Phoebe-centric one. I felt bad about not including her that much in my last fic, so hopefully, this will make up for it._

_Still a little nervous about posting it, even after all of the great reviews I got for my very first fic, but I'll give this one a try. Please keep in mind that I haven't watched Charmed in awhile, so the characters may be a bit OOC (unintentionally, of course). If it gets too bad, let me know, and I'll take it down. I don't want to butcher the characters' personalities from the show. I don't like when it's done in other fics and I'd hate to do it in mine. Also, there will most likely be no magic in this fic (or very little, if any). I'm pretty bad at writing it into the story, at least in-depth situations, but I hope you won't mind too much._

_Constructive criticism, always welcome. Apologies for any and all spelling, grammatical, etc, mistakes that may occur. _

_Oookay… here we go…_

* * *

I have a secret. 

It's hard to believe that after everything my sisters and I have been through, everything we've gone through together, I can still keep secrets from them. I didn't mean to hide this from them, but I didn't know how to tell share it.

I went to New York as an immature child in their eyes. I was Phoebe Halliwell, the youngest of three daughters, the screw-up of the bunch. I was always the one getting in trouble, causing unnecessary stress for Grams every time the police knocked on our door, holding my arm tightly so that I could not get away.

I remember the first time I caused great disappointment to Grams, Prue and Piper. I was probably about thirteen or fourteen, in my last year of middle school. I'm not sure if this is true for everyone, but middle school was a time in my life where things were introduced to me – things such as drinking, partying, relationships, sex and drugs. And though I never participated in the latter, I was a willing participant in all of the former on that short list. It was a trying, exploratory time for me, and the beginning of where I'd lost my credibility as a good girl, my trust from Grams and my respect from Prue.

Prue and Piper wanted to go to the movies that evening, the evening I'd been given my infamous immaturity label. All of their friends were talking about this movie, and Prue and Piper felt left out because they had not seen it. They'd convinced Grams to see it with them, though Grams was never one to sit inside a movie theater. It was a rare occasion when Grams actually consented to such an action, and when she did agree to sit amongst a bunch of strangers with her feet sticking to the floor and her hand dripping with over-buttered popcorn, she did it because it meant she _wanted_ to spend time with us. She was willing to subject herself to the 'hideousness of it all,' as she would sometimes say, just to spend some time with her granddaughters.

I saw this moment as a golden opportunity. I had been trying for weeks to convince my grandmother that I was old enough to sit home alone sans babysitter. I'd try to convince her every time she went out, and every time, I was rejected. But the more I had experienced life in middle school, the more adult I felt. And the more adult I felt, even at thirteen, the more I sternly felt it was unnecessary for me to be tagged along everywhere they went when I didn't _want _to go. I didn't want to see the movie; I didn't want to go to the mall. I just wanted to stay home, alone, for no particular reason.

Finally, I'd managed to convince Grams of this, and she relented. She, Prue and Piper went on their way after she left me with a set of rules and instructions thicker than my science book. Then, they were off to see the movie and possibly pick up something for dinner on the way home.

I was ecstatic.

Freedom. Finally.

The first thing I did when they left was blast my music. Loud, booming music filled just about every room in the Manor, and I was so happy to finally be able to do it without Grams screaming at me to turn it down. Another thing that excited me was the fact that a few of my friends had also been trying to convince their parents to let them stay home alone, that thirteen years-of-age did not mean they were babies. Every attempt on their part had failed miserably, yet Phoebe Halliwell had managed to make it happen. I felt a rush of exhilaration, and immediately picked up the phone to call a few friends. As I had imagined, they were happy for me, a little jealous, but happy nonetheless. They kept telling me how lucky I was and how, if Grams had been my mother instead of my grandmother, I wouldn't have succeeded. Though that comment should have made me mad, I felt… lucky that my situation was a bit different from theirs, that I resided with my grandmother instead of my parents and that fact is the reason why I was successful in my attempts to gain freedom.

The night wore on, and I had just turned off the loud music in order to watch a little television. Just as I'd settled down with a bowl of popcorn, there was a knock at the door.

Rule number twenty-one of Grams' list stated 'no opening the door for strangers.' After asking who it was behind the door, I realized it was Todd, the cute guy that sat behind me in English class. Definitely not a stranger.

Immediately, my mind remember rule thirty-three – 'no company allowed - girls, boys or otherwise.' I didn't quite understand what 'otherwise' meant, but I figured that Todd was not a boy. He was a really cute guy, almost two years older than me… a man, my thirteen-year-old mind supplied, so it was perfectly fine for him to come in for a few short minutes… because he wasn't a boy, but a man.

Long story short, Todd came in, said a friend of mine called and told him it was alright to stop by. One of my friends knew I had the biggest crush on him, and decided that my night of freedom was the perfect night for Todd and me to get acquainted with each other. He came in and produced a few wine coolers. We sat down together, talked a little, watched TV and ate popcorn. I was a little nervous, but started to relax after awhile.

The night continued and we were finally at a point where we were comfortable enough to sit next to each other, touch a little, make-out some… basically fool around while joking. After a bit, I decided to take him up to my room so that we could be comfortable, but we made it as far as the stairs. We became really invested into out making-out, things quickly progressing and spirally out of control. Eventually, one thing led to another, and just as he was about to go all the way, joining our bodies in more ways than one, the door to the Manor opened…

And there stood Prue, Piper… and Grams…

Mortified does not begin to tell you how I felt at that moment. Todd jumped up, quickly situating himself before running out the door, and I quickly pulled my skirt to cover myself before hiding my face behind my hands. Pathetically, I sat on the stairs, listening to Piper's quiet sobs that were just a little bit louder than the heavy breathing coming from Prue and Grams. The smell of Chinese food wafted around me, turning my stomach as I sat stonily on the stair, hiding behind my hands, waiting for Grams to rip me apart.

"Prudence, Piper, go upstairs and get ready for dinner," Grams said with measured calmness. I uncovered my face as Prue and Piper passed my, moving over slightly so that they did not trip over me as they ascended. I stood up and followed Grams as she wandered into the room to turn off the television. My face felt hot, and I became extremely lightheaded as she lifted two bottles of wine coolers from the table, studying them for a moment before settling her eyes on me. But instead of letting me have it, she simply said "Straighten this up and then get ready for dinner."

Her attitude completely threw me off. I expected her to punish me severely, send me off to a convent, demand that I give her the number to Todd's house so that she could tell his parents what she'd walk in on. But she simply passed me the alcoholic beverages on her way upstairs, leaving me to rid another piece of damning evidence that I was, in fact, as immature as she'd always thought I was.

That was the night I'd lost my trust and respect from Grams and my sisters, and gained my label as 'the reckless Halliwell.'

Things had gotten progressively worse from there. I'd spent a lot of time, after that night, trying desperately to prove myself to everyone, to show everyone that I wasn't a bad person. No, I was not the most innocent girl anymore; I had had my fair share of drinks at parties, smoked cigarettes a few times, and lost my virginity a long time before Todd decided to notice me, but that didn't mean that I was some horrible monster. I was just testing the waters, trying to find myself, trying to fit in where I could because it was such an awkward time. I just wanted to be my own person, and not Prue and Piper's baby sister, and the youngest granddaughter of Penny Halliwell. I wanted to express my individuality the only way I knew how. And the more I felt guilty for doing that, the more I fought to regain what I'd lost with my family, the more resentful I was of them for making me feel like I'd done some monumentally horrible thing. And the more I felt resentful, the more I acted out… negatively.

By the time Grams passed, I had already had a firm grip on the 'badass' persona I had unintentionally created for myself. Prue and I were barely on speaking terms. Piper was tense and shy, trying so hard to be the peacemaker. I just needed to go away, be in a place where, when walking down the street, everyone didn't automatically assume I'm the bad girl.

I wanted a fresh beginning.

So, I left.

I went to New York. I successfully recreated myself. I gained the independence I so craved, and learned how to deal with it maturely and responsibly. I worked hard, made a positive name for myself. I changed.

When I left New York to return home, I took with me something I wanted to share with my sisters. I wanted to share it as soon as I set foot in the Manor. I wanted to tell them how much I've changed, show them how much I've grown, share with them something I cherished more than I'd ever thought I would.

The tension, though, between the three of us remained. I felt it as soon as I opened the door to the Manor on that rainy night. I felt it with every breath I took and every look I received, every word exchanged between my sisters and I.

That is why, to this day, I still have a secret.

And her name is Charlie.

* * *

_A/N: Short, but more to come. Keep going? _

_Oh, and there won't be an annoying A/N at the beginning and end of every part._

_I'm not really sure about this story, so in a few days (maybe less), I may take it down anyway. (unless people really think it's alright.)_

_Johannah_


	2. Chapter 2

It didn't take me long to settle in my new location. I had been saving up enough before I left so that my move would be as painless as possible. I had made a few calls before leaving the Manor, asking managers from different apartments to reserve a living space until I was able to meet them in person, so my living arrangements luckily came with ease.

My first week in New York was a bit of a revelatory period for me. I was always tagged as the irresponsible one, the girl who couldn't stay out of trouble. Friends treated me like a rebel to be admired, and family treated me as a nuisance to be ignored. After awhile, I admit, I started to fall into their behaviors toward me. I started to actually believe that I was a bad person, that I shouldn't be trusted and that people should always expect the worst from me because setting me to any higher standards would only result in great disappointment. I truly believed I was capable of nothing more than going through life acting rebellious.

But when I arrived in New York and settled into a routine, I realized I was actually more than what everyone thought I was. I wasn't just some defiant girl with childish views and a disruptive way of life. I wasn't as irresponsible and naïve as my family and friends thought, pounding that notion into me until I had no choice but to believe it. I went to New York, found a place to live, a fairly reliable source of income, and even managed to make a few friends and I did it all on my own. I was proving to myself every day that, when it came down to taking care of myself, there was nothing that could stop me from taking on the responsibilities expected of any normal young woman my age. I could be an adult and I could be just as successful and fulfilled doing things my own way, not the way Grams expected of me or the way Prue preferred.

I nervously thought things through, planned and saved, and put things into action. I did it all on my own, and I was very happy with how it turned out.

My first week in New York, I focused on getting my apartment set up. The former residents were kind enough to leave me their furniture, and I was happy that they did. The furniture was in good shape and well within my taste. Their generosity also saved me some well-needed money, enough to live off of until I could get my first paycheck.

I was moving my things into the apartment, and just as I had lifted the last box from the ground, I heard a few soft giggles and then a pair of feet rushing in my direction.

"Here, let me help," the woman said, grabbing a hold of the opposite side of the box.

"I'll get the door," the other woman called, rushing over to open the door to my apartment.

We set the box on the ground, brushing our hands of the dust that had collected on the bottom of the cardboard.

"It's good to see some new faces around here," the first lady said with a smile, holding out her hand for me to shake. "My name is Jenna, and this is my sister, Rainey." The other woman stepped over, offering me her hand.

"I'm Phoebe. Nice to meet you both."

We stood there in awkward silence for a minute or two before Rainey spotted an old journal of mine, sitting on top of one of the opened boxes.

"Jenna, look," she said, walking over to lift it. "Mom had one just like this!" She turned the silk-covered book in her hands, fingering the gold embroidery and cooled golden latch. Jenna and I watched as Rainey tried to open it, just short of breaking the lock that held its secrets.

"Rainey, you know it's impolite to go through someone's things like that. I'm sure Phoebe doesn't appreciate it."

With a nod and a murmured apology, Rainey returned the book to its spot in the box before walking over to stand by her sister. I could tell that Rainey was the younger of the two, and though her appearance seemed just as mature as Jenna's, Rainey couldn't have been much older than fifteen.

"So, Phoebe, what brings you to our side of town?" Rainey asked, wandering over to the little kitchenette.

"Actually, I just moved here from California."

"Really? Do you have family here?"

"No, um… it's just me."

"Really? Then, what made you chose to move here as opposed to-"

"Rainey, that's enough with the questions."

I couldn't help but smile, even if I felt a little uncomfortable with the inquiries. Rainey seemed like a really sweet kid.

"Okay, okay. Enough with the questions," Rainey said with an exaggerated tone of feigned annoyance. "Phoebe, I noticed you have, like, no food in this place. Jenna and I were going to get lunch from Pete's deli down the street. You could come with us."

"I don't know… I wouldn't want to be in the way, and I have a lot of unpacking to do."

"You won't be in the way," Jenna spoke. "We asked you to join, and we'll even help you unpack later on, if you want us to."

I was about to tell them 'no' when my stomach growled loudly, answering for me. We all laughed and I agreed to go, stopping in the bathroom to wash the dust and dirt from my face and hands.

"Oh, and we can show you around town," Rainey said with contained excitement. "We'll show you where to get your groceries, your clothes… the mall isn't even that far away." Jenna smiled at me as we walked, and Rainy continued to talk.

I couldn't help but feel a little relieved that I had ran into them. Even with all my need for freedom and doing things on my own, it's always nice to have a little company to share it with.

* * *

Jenna, Rainey and I spent a lot of time together as the weeks passed. I learned a lot about them, yet they learned very little about me and the life I left behind in San Francisco. 

Jenna ran a small flower shop around the corner from the apartment building. She had taken over the business after her mother and father were killed in a car accident a few years prior. After their deaths, she took custody of her sister, Rainey, and together, they worked to keep the business going.

Rainey was sixteen-years-old, and home-schooled by Jenna so that she could be of more help around the shop and apartment. She was actually going to a public school before their parents passed, but Rainey had gotten mixed up in the wrong crowd, showing her pain and grief by staying out late and partying, defying everything her sister asked of her. Jenna felt it would be best for Rainey to take on more responsibilities, to take part in something for which their mother held a great fondness. Rainey, realizing the negative path she was taking, agreed to be home-schooled for the remainder of her high school years while she helped Jenna keep the shop going.

I had taken on a job at the flower shop, helping them and making some money at the same time. They'd been so nice to me, taking me under their wing and making sure I was comfortable enough to get around town. They'd introduced me to all of their neighbors and worked to include me into their little group of close acquaintances.

I remember the night we sat in their apartment, eating pizza and laughing at the craziest things. Rainey thought it would be fun to play 'Truth or Dare,' a game Jenna and I were well beyond playing, but it gave us something to do. It was almost twelve midnight, and things were just starting to wind down when Rainey asked the last question.

"Truth or dare, Phoebe?"

I lifted my head from the couch to glance at her, knowing my eyes were nearly closed with exhaustion.

"Dare."

Rainey laughed, rising from her seated position on the floor. Walking to where I rested lazily on their sofa, she grabbed my hand, pulling me up and toward the door.

"Rainey, what are you doing?" Jenna's voice just as drowsy and slurred with exhaustion as I'm sure mine was.

"Showing Phoebe her dare."

I heard Jenna following us to the door, and watched as Rainey opened it slowly. Without releasing my hand from her grasp, she led me toward the stairs, and I listened for the soft snick as Jenna closed my apartment door and followed.

We walked up the first flight, and then the second before reaching a hallway identically similar to my own.

"You see that door down there?" Rainey asked quietly, her slender finger pointing in the direction of apartment forty-four. She waited for my nod before continuing. "Jefferson McKinney lives there. He's a twenty-six-year-old man, single… but single for a reason."

I looked over at her, waiting for the reason why I had a feeling this was no longer just a game.

"Jefferson has been here almost as long as Jenna and I; he moved in about six months after us. For awhile, he had been pretty active around here – helping to repair the damage to the garden out behind the apartment, showing up once in while when we had our bi-weekly neighborhood barbeque. He even helped maintenance fix up most of the apartment units in the building."

"Sometimes, he would get a group of us together," Jenna added, lifting herself from leaning against the wall, "and we'd all go into the city and just shop… all day. Sometimes, we'd see a play or something. A lot of the time, we would all just go out to lunch and shop. There were times when a bunch of us would just walk around at night just to be surrounded by the city lights and nightlife… but he would always be the one to initiate it because everyone else was too busy. I guess, if we didn't have to think of it on our own, we could always manage to find time if we were invited."

"Jefferson was a really nice, cute guy, always going out of his way for people he didn't know, and he hadn't even been living here for that long."

I looked back at the door, wondering what had become of Jefferson.

"So what happened?"

Rainey sighed. "He met this woman. She seemed nice at first, followed along with him we all went to the city, clung to his side during barbeques and such. I'd say…about a little less than a month later, Jefferson just stopped socializing with us. He had become such good friends with everyone in the building, so when people began seeing less and less of him, people started to worry. More than a few times, some of the guys would knock on his door, only to be met by silence or an angry voice telling them to go away. Shortly after that, people began to take his advice and leave him alone.

"About a year later, we found out Jefferson's girlfriend was dead. Gone. Just like that. Some said it was suicide… but a lot of people believe Jefferson murdered her."

I looked in Jenna's direction and was met by a weary shrug.

"Murder? Why would you all think she was murdered?"

"Well, first off all, Carla was a bitch."

"Rainey." Jenna's tone was admonishing, but I could tell she was thinking the same thing. "Carla seemed to have an air of…"

"…bitchiness," Rainey finished. "There's no other way to describe her. Some might've called her self-confident, some prideful, but it was obvious she was just a bitch. You could always hear them arguing, and she was just… horrible. Things would crash against the wall, glass shattering constantly. The rare times when we did see Jefferson, he was covered with bruises and scratches."

"Okay, so she wasn't the friendliest person to be around. How did you all come up with the idea that he killed her?"

Jenna sighed. "The night before we all found out about Carla's death, we heard screaming coming from the apartment. The police were called, things were handled, but we all found out later that Carla was dead. Because of their history and that night… everyone just assumed…"

I nodded, looking toward the man's door for the umpteenth time that night. Even with all they had told me, I still felt I knew very little about Jefferson. Maybe it was because I've never met him; maybe it was because they all knew him before and after Carla and I didn't, but something inside kept me from believing that this Jefferson guy had killed his girlfriend. Maybe it was just me being sensitive and understanding, knowing what it was like to be judged by those that didn't have the full story.

My thoughts were interrupted by Rainey's hand waving in front of my face, breaking myself from staring at Jefferson's door.

"So," I said before clearing my throat. "Why are we up here? What does this have to do with my dare?"

Rainey smiled. "Your dare, Phoebe, is to knock on Jefferson's door and introduce yourself."

"Rainey…" Jenna sighed, shaking her head.

"It's a dare, Jenna. She has to do it. You can't tell me you haven't been the slightest bit curious about Jefferson. And besides, Phoebe's new here. She has to meet him sometime, and it's highly unlikely he'll bite the head off a beautiful woman just knocking on his door to introduce herself."

Rainey smiled again, pointing her finger in the direction of the door.

"Rainey, it's late. He's probably asleep, and beautiful woman or not, I'm sure he won't like it too much to be awakened over a silly game."

"Jen-na! He won't know it's a game, and it is not too late. _We're_ still awake." She turned to me, giving me a slight nudge in that direction. "Go ahead, Phoebe. If anything happens, Jenna and I will be here."

I agreed with Jenna, feeling a bit nervous about waking him up over Rainey's silly dare, but I had known them both long enough to know that I wasn't going to hear the end of it until my fist and that door connected.

Casting one last glance in Rainey's direction, I slowly walked in the direction of apartment forty-four. My heart was pounding, and I could feel my nerves on edge, but I continued on until I reached the door.

With a nervous sigh, I closed my eyes and knocked softly on the door. I could hear Rainey's gasp and turned to see them both watching me intently. I knocked again, and once more a few minutes later – each knock being met by nothing but silence.

I turned around to walk toward Jenna and Rainey when I heard a small sound in the hall perpendicular to the one where the two women stood anxiously waiting for me. The sound made me jump, quickly turning in its direction. After a few seconds, I started to walk away, but heard the sound again… only louder.

"Phoebe, what's wrong?" Jenna called, but I ignored her for a moment, walking in the direction of the noise.

I didn't walk far before a little body peered from around the corner.

She was about four or five-years-old with dark, curly hair and caramel color skin. Her eyes were big and a deep chocolate-brown, and she wore a pink nightgown that flowed down to brush against little toes with nails shaded a hot-pink color.

I stopped a few feet before her, and together, we studied each other with solemn gazes.

"Hi," I said, kneeling down to her height.

"Hello." Her voice was small and gentle, making me smile for no apparent reason.

"My name is Phoebe. What's your name?"

The little girl continued to look at me, not giving any indication that she'd heard my question. She took a hesitant step in my direction and I could see her hands fiddling with something behind her back.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself?" I tried, hoping she would tell me her parents were somewhere close by.

Again, she didn't answer my question. Her gaze fell to her feet, and an uneasy feeling settled over me.

"Are you lost?"

"No, I'm not lost." She looked up at me, her eyes meeting mine in a firm gaze that surprised me. "I saw you knocking on Jefferson McKinney's door, and I just wanted you to know that he isn't home right now."

I nodded, surprised that this little child spoke with more clarity and confidence than I'd ever seen in a kid her age.

"Okay, I can try back later… can you tell me your name, sweetie?" I asked, hoping that my kid-voice would set her at ease. It was a voice I'd used maybe twice in my life, seeing as I had never been around many kids at home.

"I'm not lost, Phoebe. I know exactly where I live."

Her assured tone threw me off, and I found myself at a loss for words.

"I just wanted to return this to you."

From behind her back, she pulled out a small, black box I immediately recognized as my own. It was a jewelry box Grams had gotten me for my tenth birthday, and I would have been frantic if I'd realized it wasn't in my apartment.

"I think you may have dropped it without noticing. It was on the sidewalk outside, and I picked it up as soon as I saw it because it looked pretty important. I know it's yours because there's a picture of you and two other ladies inside," the girl said, and the photo Grams had taken of Prue, Piper and I immediately popped in my head.

"I just didn't know where you lived so that I could return it to you." Reaching out, she handed the box to me with a bright smile. "I know I would be upset if I'd lost something like that."

I took the box from her, finding it extremely hard to tear my eyes away from her baby face. Before I could thank her, she waved and said in a happy sing-song voice, "see ya later, Phoebe!" before running around the corner.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! I'm still not sure about this story, so please, **please** let me know if it's disgustingly OOC because I think it is. It's really up to you guys if I should keep this story online, or take it down and try again later._

_Thanks, again._

_Johannah _


	3. Chapter 3

Awhile had passed since that night in the hallway, and ever since Rainey told me the story of Jefferson, I found myself unconsciously thinking about him. I wondered what he looked like, how he felt about everyone speaking badly behind his back. I wondered if he really did kill his girlfriend, and how he'd managed to get away with it. Hearing rumors almost always made me immediately think about the object of the vicious conversation, and every time I thought back to what Jenna and Rainey told me, I thought about Jefferson.

The time had come for me to experience my first neighborhood barbeque. Everyone in the small apartment building was to bring something, a dish, charcoal, anything to contribute to the friendly festivities.

I laughed as I sat in the apartment, watching Rainey make a complete mess out of baking chocolate-chip cookies. I was no cook, but Rainey was even worse. Even Jenna had a few laughs as she stood mixing her Caesar salad.

"Just what, exactly, do the two of you find so damned funny?" Rainey exclaimed, trying desperately to keep a solemn face. "Not everyone can bake a perfect batch of cookies. I remember eating a few burned ones myself the last time Jenna tried making them."

"How do you burn cookies?" I laughed, walking over to wrap my arms around Rainey's shoulders. "It's not like you made them from scratch, honey. The directions are right on the wrapper."

"Well, she would be able to read them if she hadn't sliced right through them." Jenna held up the shredded wrapper that once held a roll of cookie dough.

"Yea, well, I'm sure I'll be seeing _both_ of your hands reaching for them once they're finished… and I won't let you have any since you've done nothing but tease." Rainey dropped a glob of dough on the cookie sheet before shoving it in the oven. "And Phoebe, where's _your _contribution?"

"Currently resting in the refrigerator at my apartment. I made macaroni salad." A chorus of appreciative sounds came from Jenna and Rainey, making me smile.

"Where'd you learn to cook?"

With a sigh, I opened the door to their refrigerator, searching for nothing in particular.

"My grandmother loved to cook. I use to watch her a lot."

"So did our dad," Jenna said softly, and the look on her face told me she'd already known my grandmother was no longer living, just from the tone of my words.

"Our dad was a great cook, but I think it's pretty obvious we never use to watch him," Rainey said with a nod towards the oven. "I was never present for the making of the good food, but always there to eat it."

With a shared chuckle between the three of us, we continued to make the food for the cookout.

* * *

The people from the neighborhood were very nice, almost suspiciously kind. I knew it was just me being overly cautious. I'd never been so quickly accepted by people, no questions asked. They welcomed me with opened arms, and crazy jokes, tips for 'surviving' the neighborhood, and even managed to book me for a brief moment grill during the Fourth of July celebration. They were a nice, comfortable group of people, and I found myself relaxing with them more than I'd ever done so with others. 

I'd just helped Marguerite, the kind elderly lady from the first floor, refresh the bowls of potato chips when a flash of brown, curly hair caught my eye. I finished with Marguerite as quickly as I could without being rude, and then rushed around the corner to find the little girl.

For some reason, since the moment I met her, the little girl from the hall had drawn me to her. It may have been her expressive brown eyes, or her mature demeanor, but something about this little girl had me thinking of her…and on those rare occasions when thoughts of her came to my mind, I would find myself smiling.

Walking around the corner of the building, heading toward the main entrance, I was greeted by a large group of lively children. I could see come of them drawing on the sidewalk with colorful chalk while others played jump rope. A group of younger teenagers stood laughing and comparing cell phones while the older teens talked in the corner, smoking cigarettes – obviously hiding their habits from their parents.

Smiling at a few giggling girls playing with their Barbie dolls, I stepped over them and entered the building. I wasn't sure where to go from there; I wasn't sure where the little girl lived or in what direction she had gone. A feeling of guilt played over me, my conscience kicking in when I realized that I was actually searching for this little girl. I felt like a stalker, like I was doing something wrong. There was no reason why I was searching for her.

I simply chalked my search up to making sure she was alright since the last time I'd seen her, I thought she was lost… despite her reassurance that she wasn't.

I hadn't realized I was just standing in the middle of the hall, lost in my own thoughts, until someone brushed my shoulder in passing. I felt a little off-guard, foolish for standing in the hallway like an idiot. When I turned around to apologize, I'd caught the man turning away from me.

He'd been staring at me as he walked.

A shudder ran through me as I focused on his retreating back, the intended apology caught in my throat.

"Phoebe?" a soft voice called, making my head whip around to meet its owner.

She stood there in little denim overalls and a purple, floral shirt. Her eyes searched over me, and a worried frown creased her brows.

"Are you okay? Why are you just standing in the hallway?"

I smiled, looking to the tray she held in her hands.

"What's this?"

Her attention immediately deviated, glancing down the tray she was holding.

"I baked brownies!" she said cheerfully. "You're suppose to bring something to the barbeque and _everyone _likes brownies, right, Phoebe? Do you like brownies?"

"I love brownies," I answered, and an unfamiliar feeling crowded my chest. It was difficult to explain; I had never felt anything like it before. It was a feeling that left me lightheaded, almost… breathless… my heart beating so quickly… feeling like my lungs needed much more air…

It felt almost like the time I went to the aquarium when I was nine. I walked into this… new world where the bluest of water was encased in glass all around me. Looking up, down, left and right, I was met with the most vibrantly clear water… with sharks swimming within. I felt as though I was deep in the ocean with them, swallowed in their surroundings, on their turf. I knew I was safe, and my heart sped with excitement and awe as I studied the beauty that was before me.

I guess what I felt was something similar to that experience.

Here stood this vibrant little girl, smiling and proud of the brownies she'd baked. She was beautiful with her curly hair with a little butterfly clip holding the front in place as the rest fell softly to her shoulders; her cheeks held a pale pink blush, as natural as the golden tone of her mocha skin. She was the perfect little girl.

"Phoebe? Do you think you could carry them down to the cookout? I don't want to drop them."

"Sure," I said with a smile, reaching out to take the tray from her. "They smell so yummy."

"I know. I had a hard time trying not to sneak one before everyone else. I have to admit – I cheated. I decided to bake _two_ trays of brownies so that when I get home, and if I'm not completely stuffed from all the other food, I could have some brownies before I go to bed."

She giggled.

I smiled.

She was perfect.

* * *

We'd managed to arrive just in time to fix our plates, and I couldn't help but laugh at the sight of Rainey at the grill. Her chef's hat and silly apron were deceiving, for everyone knew that Rainey was far from the 'Best Chef on Earth.' 

She spotted me and smiled, pointing to her attire and nodding, making me laugh even harder.

"Who's that, Phoebe?" the little girl at my side asked as she laughed at Rainey.

"That's a friend of mine. She helped me move into my apartment. Her name is Rainey."

"Rainey? Like the weather?"

"Something like that." We spotted Jenna and joined her in the line to fix plates. "This is Rainey's sister, Jenna."

"Hi, Jenna." The little girl waved before grabbing a paper plate for me and then herself. Jenna and I watched as the little girl piled a large amount of Jenna's salad onto our plates, followed by a good helping of my macaroni salad and some of Mary's famous fried chicken.

Stepping away, she quickly found a few vacant picnic tables and placed our plates on them before walking back to us and reaching for two more empty plates.

"Sweetie, you don't have to make me a plate. How about I make one for you, and you can go ahead and start without us."

The little girl smiled before reaching for the hotdog rolls.

"I don't mind, Phoebe."

Picking up a pair of tongs, she retrieved two hotdogs, placing them carefully in the rolls. She surprised me, squeezing equal amounts of ketchup and mustard onto both hotdogs; somehow, she knew exactly what to put on my hotdog.

Throwing a quick smile in my direction, she moved down the line, placing a few handfuls of potato chips and a glob of dip onto the plate. Next came the cheeseburgers as she placed two hamburger buns on the plate.

"Rainey?" she called, after placing a cheeseburger on the buns and walking the plates toward the grill. "Could we have extra cheese on our hamburgers? Please?" Her baby voice made everyone smile and Rainey happily granted the little girl's request. "Thank you," she said contentedly, walking the plates to the picnic table.

Jenna had been fixing her own plate and watching the child at the same time.

"Who's the kid?"

"I don't know. I thought maybe you knew who she was."

Jenna shook her head. "No. I haven't seen her around. Does she live in the building?"

"I think so." Jenna placed a pickle on her plate and then motioned for us to join the little girl, who was happily crunching on a potato chip. "I saw her in the building a few nights ago."

We sat down – me next to the little girl and Jenna opposite of us, quickly joined by Rainey carrying a full plate.

"Ugh, I'm starved!" Rainey exclaimed, picking up her cheeseburger and biting into it just as her bottom hit the seat.

"Try not to eat too quickly, Rainey. You might get a bellyache."

Jenna and I chuckled as Rainey paused mid-chew, surveying the kid before her.

"Who's this?" Rainey said, nodding her head in the girl's direction.

I shrugged my shoulder before turning to face her, watching as she kicked her feet and slid a finger through the ketchup-mustard mix that covered her hotdog.

"I don't think you told me your name," I tried, gaining her attention as she sucked on her finger.

"My name is Charlysia."

"Well, that's a pretty name," Jenna commented.

"It is," Rainey agreed before both she and her sister resumed eating.

Charlysia glanced in their direction before leaning over to whisper in my ear.

"Everyone calls me 'Charlysia,' but if I really like them, I let people call me 'Charlie.' You can call me 'Charlie,' okay?"

I nodded, and that unfamiliar feeling returned, swelling in my chest. I couldn't describe it, but it was even more prominent when Charlie smiled, revealing tiny little white teeth.

She settled herself in the seat and began working on her macaroni salad.

All I could do was watch her and wonder what it was about Charlie that drew me to her.


	4. Chapter 4

The sky was darkening, changing from a beautiful blue color to a mixture of orange, yellow and pink as the sun disappeared. Things were winding down; everyone was full and lethargic, not quite ready to call it a night. Citronella candles were placed strategically between the remaining groups of people, aiding in keeping the bugs away as well as illuminating the darkening surroundings. There was a soft, quiet murmur amongst the group, each to their own quiet conversations as the few remaining children played before us.

Mrs. Hitchkins, from the fifth floor, came around with a basket of muffins, trying desperately to keep them from going to waste.

"Jenna, Phoebe, could you _please_ take these muffins? I know you've had your fair share of food today, but Mrs. Ellen McPherson was kind enough to bake these, even though she's suffering with a touch of the flu." Beside us, I could see Rainey shiver. "I wouldn't want her efforts to go unnoticed."

"Mrs. Hitchkins, Mrs. McPherson baked like four dozen muffins," Rainey stated with a wrinkle in her brow. "There are six muffins left. I hardly think her efforts have gone unnoticed."

"And I couldn't possibly eat another thing," Jenna said, patting her stomach for emphasis.

Mrs. Hitchkins cut her eye at Rainey, granting her a disapproving look before giving a terse nod and turning her back to leave.

"Wait, Mrs. Hitchkins," a little voice called, a voice I'd finally come to feel comfortable around. Jenna, Rainey, Mrs. Hitchkins and I turned in the direction of the voice, and I could help but smile as Charlie ran over to us wearing a pair of Elmo pajamas with matching slippers. In her arms, she carried a little tray.

Finally reaching where we sat, she took a second to catch her breath before speaking. "I have something to give you." Walking over to me, Charlie placed the tray on my lap, gracing me with a little smile before uncovering a tray of brownies. "I baked these myself, but I guess I baked too many because there were some left over from the barbeque. If you could give this to Mrs. McPherson for me, that would make me very happy. And then I can take her muffins so that they won't go to waste."

Looking quizzically at the child, Mrs. Hitchkins spoke. "Hon, I would be happy to give Mrs. McPherson your brownies, and in return, I'll give you two muffins. That should be enough for such a little girl."

I noticed that the questioning look remained on the older lady's face as Charlie handed her the tray of brownies and reached for two muffins in return. Her gaze was chilled, making me shudder with its intensity. It seemed as if Mrs. Hitchkins were staring at some abhorred thing that had suddenly caught her curiosity. It made me wonder why, exactly, such a look was directed at such a sweet little girl.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hitchkins," Charlie said with a slight smile, but I could tell the gaze the lady gave her made her feel uncomfortable. With her eyes still on Mrs. Hitchkins, Charlie slid into my lap, her back coming to rest against my chest as she cradled the two muffins in her hands.

Rainey took notice of the awkward situation, glaring at Mrs. Hitchkins for making Charlie feel so uncomfortable.

With a huff, Rainey stood, grabbing the basket of muffins from Mrs. Hitchkins' hands, snapping the old woman's attention away from the squirming kid on my lap.

"Why don't I try and get rid of these while you go ahead and give those to Mrs. McPherson," Rainey said, nodding her head in the directions of the brownies.

With a nod, and one last glance at Charlie, Mrs. Hitchkins left.

I could feel Charlie's weight sag against me as she let out a sigh of relief.

"What did I do?" she asked, her voice so soft and broken, it tore at my heart.

My arms instinctively wrapped around her, cradling her small body to me as my lips pressed against her temple.

"You didn't do anything, sweetie," I whispered, kissing her again as I swept the curly hair from her cheek.

"Then, why did she look at me like that? I just wanted to be nice. I just wanted to share my brownies."

"Aww, angel, you were very nice," Jenna spoke, reaching over to wipe the tears from Charlie's cheek. Charlie shied away from Jenna's touch, cuddling closer to me. Jenna took no notice of the behavior as she continued with a smile. "I think mean old Mrs. Hitchkins is just tired from today's activities."

Charlie stared in the direction the lady had walked, her eyes glazed over as I imagined she was lost in her own little thoughts. Rainey stepped toward us, turning her head left and right before spotting what she was looking for.

"Here," she spoke softly, gently taking the two muffins from Charlie. "I'll take these. If Mrs. McPherson has the flu, I doubt we'd want you eating them. I've seen that lady cook before, and it's disgusting when she isn't even sick." Shuddering, Rainey walked over to the trash bin, tossing the remaining muffins into the receptacle.

Charlie turned sideways on my lap, leaning to rest her head against my chest. Again, as if by instinct, my hands smoothed over her curly hair as my lips kissed her forehead. I could feel relaxing, her body losing some of its tension.

"You okay?" I whispered, leaning slightly to view her face. Her eyes still had an eerie glaze to them, and I could feel my heart beat quicken. "Charlie?"

"I'm okay, Phoebe," she spoke softly, her little arms holding me tightly. "…I guess."

"It's all right. It's like Jenna said – Mrs. Hitchkins is just sleepy."

"And mean," Rainey provided, patting Charlie's leg with a grin. "Don't let her bother you, kid."

Charlie smiled slightly, her eyes sliding closed.

We all sat in silence for awhile, listening to the quiet murmurs, the teenagers playing cards, the old men getting drunk off of homemade liquor. Jenna and Rainey spoke quietly, including me into their conversation once in awhile, though I wasn't really paying attention.

Mrs. Hitchkins may very well have been tired – everyone that participated in the cookout was a bit lethargic – but that didn't explain the crazy look she gave Charlie. For that glare to have made me, an adult, feel a bit unnerved, I could only imagined what a child Charlie's age must have felt to have such a look directed at her.

She was a just little girl.

* * *

Charlie's weight sagged against me, and I knew she'd fallen asleep. What I didn't know was where this child lived or where her parents were. Glancing at my watch told me it was nearly eleven p.m. and not a parent came down to see if their beautiful little girl was ready for bed. 

I regretted having to wake her, but I needed to find out where she lived so that I could at least carry her to her apartment.

"Charlie?" I whispered, smoothing a finger down her petal-soft cheek. She squirmed a little, burrowing further into the cradle of my arms.

"I'm beat," Rainey said around a yawn, leaning her head against Jenna's shoulder.

"Phoebe, where does Charlysia live? I know we've gone over this before, but I honestly haven't seen her before today." Jenna frowned, studying the face of the child sleeping in my lap.

Call it protective, but my hold tightened slightly, even though I _knew_ Jenna would never hurt her. Something in me just wanted to do everything I could to protect Charlie, to make sure that she would never feel fear or face harm, at least in my presence.

"I don't know where she lives, Jen. I was just thinking about why her parents haven't come to look for her yet."

With another yawn, Rainey looked up at me from her position on her sister's shoulder. "Should we start knocking on doors or something?" she asked softly.

Jenna shook her head. "Why don't we start by asking _her_ where she lives?"

"But some kids are wary of that," Rainey spoke, lifting her head to look at Jenna. "You're a stranger asking her where she lives. That's like some guy off the street asking her to help him find his lost puppy."

Another shudder ran through me.

My arms, once again, tighten around Charlie at the thought.

"But if you think about it, this little girl has been with us all day. She's been clinging to Phoebe's side since the beginning of this barbeque. Phoebe has no idea who this kid is or where she came from, so technically, Charlysia's been hanging around strangers all day."

"And she changed into her pajamas," Rainey stated, drawing out attention to the Elmo attire. "She has to live in one of these apartment units."

I sighed as worry started to sear through my stomach.

"Charlie," I tried again, this time a little firmer. "Wake up, sweetie."

Her eyes fluttered open as she searched for my face. "What's wrong?" she asked, her baby voice hoarse with sleep.

"Sweetie, I need to know where to take you so that you can sleep in your bed."

"Why can't I sleep here? With you?"

"Charlie, we can't sleep outside all night," I said with a smile.

"I know that, silly. I just want to stay the night with you. My parents won't mind."

I looked to Jenna and Rainey, seeing them both give me a guarded look.

"Well, Charlie, I would need to speak to them. They need to know where you are."

"No, they don't."

"Yes, they do," Rainey added. "You're like three-years-old. There's no way they'd let their baby stay over someone's house without them knowing."

"Actually, I'm four-and-a-half, and they wouldn't mind at all if I stayed over Phoebe's house." Her eyes found mine, that firm gaze back as she held contact. "And besides, my parents aren't home right now. My nanny is here, but I can just relieve her for the night so that I could stay with you."

My eyes looked to Jenna as I silently asked her what to do.

I knew I was being foolish. This four-year-old child needed to be with her parents and I, as a complete stranger, had no right to even consider keeping her for the night. That action would be considered kidnapping, and the last thing I needed was something else added to my already-tarnished record.

The irrational side of me, however, wanted this little girl to stay with me. I was drawn to her, like she was _my_ little girl. I didn't want to send her off to a nanny when I could take care of her, at least for the night. Her imploring eyes wanted this of me, and I'm sure my face showed I wanted it just as badly.

"Maybe… you could talk to her nanny? Have her nanny call her parents and speak to you," Jenna offered.

Charlie screamed _'don't!'_ at the same time Rainey yelled _'are you crazy!'_ making both Jenna and me jump at their abruptness.

"Why would her parents give their permission… _over the phone…_ for a stranger to watch their kid? What's wrong with you guys? Have you been drinking Mert's homemade liquor or something?" Rainey asked indignantly as she nodded in the direction of the inebriated old men. "Charlysia should just go home to her nanny, wait for her parents to get home, and when they're able to meet Phoebe face-to-face, maybe then you should ask if you could baby-sit their kid."

Charlie looked up at me, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

"No, Phoebe, please. They won't have a problem with me staying with you. Trust me. I know my parents; Rainey doesn't." Her eyes shot an angry glance in her direction before returning to their softness as she looked at me. "I wanna stay with _you_," she said, her arms wrapping around my neck as her head fell to my shoulder.

I felt torn.

I wanted her with me… but Rainey was right.

Just as I was about to agree with Rainey, Charlie's head rose as she yelled "Daddy's home! Be right back!"

Charlie ran around the corner, into the building; Jenna, Rainey and I traded puzzled looks. Finally, Rainey jumped up, running in the direction in which Charlie had gone, Jenna and I following behind her.

* * *

We could hear Charlie speaking to someone as we raced in that direction. His voice was deep, smooth, almost making me feel calm in the anticipation of meeting him. 

'_Go_ _ahead, baby, and tell Phoebe I said 'thank you,'_' was all we heard before the ding of the elevator signaled the closing door.

Charlie raced around the corner, nearly bumping into us as her excitement bubbled over.

"He said it's okay!"

Charlie jumped up and down before hugging me.

With a briefly shared look, Jenna, Rainey and I looked in the direction of the elevator.


End file.
